


Maid In Winnipeg

by Bittersweet



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Chicago Blackhawks, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-17 04:07:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8129887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersweet/pseuds/Bittersweet
Summary: Patrick Kane is an art student in Winnipeg. There on a scholarship, he takes a job cleaning house for millionaire business tycoon Jonathan Toews. At the same time he meets Jonny. A nice but slightly mysterious guy that he quickly falls head over heels for.Very loosely based on the movie Maid in Manhattan.





	1. Chapter 1

“I just don’t understand why you have to go so far away,” his mom said again as she hugged him goodbye.

“I’m only going to Winnipeg mom,” he reminded her again. “It’s only a twenty-four hour drive.”

“There are plenty of colleges in Buffalo.”

_But none with the Fine Arts courses I want that are offering me a free ride,_ he repeated inwardly. This was an argument he’d had with his mother many, many times. He hugged his sisters and his father, turning down his offer to drive there with him yet again, and climbed into the driver’s seat of the old station wagon his dad was always claiming was a classic. He glanced in the review mirror, waving back at his family as he pulled out of the driveway. He made it to the next block before the tears started and he had to pull into an empty lot for twenty minutes before he could get his emotions back under control and the car back on the road.

 

FOUR MONTHS LATER

“Twenty bucks says Shawzy gets shot down,” Sharpy said as Shaw walked over to talk to the leggy blonde he’d been staring at since they got to the club.

“You’re on,” Patrick said. “I think he’s got a chance.”

“Got to say I’m with Sharpy on this one Peeks,” Keith said shaking his head. “She’s out of his league.”

“We’ll see.” Patrick’s faith was rewarded a minute later when Shaw returned to the table with the girl’s number in his contacts with the note call me and a winking emoji.

“Pay up boys,” Patrick said smugly as Sharp and Keith handed over their money.

“How the hell did you convince her to give you her number?” Sharp demanded.

Shaw smirked. “A gentleman doesn’t talk about his conquests but since I’m not a gentleman I’ll let you buy that information.”

“While you guys decide if it’s worth it, I’ll buy the next round.” Patrick stood up and worked his way through the crowd. He stepped around an oblivious couple dancing and bumped into a guy coming from the other direction.

“Sorry,” the guy said catching Patrick’s arm as he stumbled.

Patrick’s heart skipped a beat as he looked up into intense dark eyes then pulled out his most winning smile. “No it was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention. I’m Patrick.”

The guy blinked. “Jonny.” He stared at Patrick for a second as though he was waiting for something then realized he was still holding Patrick’s arm and let go, blushing. “Excuse me.”

He disappeared into the crowd before Patrick could say anything else. Patrick shrugged and continued to the bar.


	2. Chapter 2

“Mr. Toews is rarely at home,” Mrs. Quinby, the picture of an old English matriarch, said as she showed him about the mansion the next morning.

“That’s okay,” Pat said cheerfully. “I don’t need to meet him.”

Mrs. Quinby stopped and looked down her nose at him. “Quite. Professor Quenneville recommended you as a bright, hard-working young man. I do hope I won’t be disappointed.”

“No ma’am,” Pat said trying to look serious. This job was perfect for him. He could work around his class schedule and the pay was enough that he wouldn’t have to worry about asking his family for money to cover the extras that his scholarship didn’t.

She studied him sceptically for a moment then continued the tour. “I assign everyone in my staff a specific task, that way I always know it will be done and who to blame if it is not.” She pushed open a set of tall, wooden doors carved with grape vines and led him into a vast library. “You will be assigned the dusting. Everything in the mansion is to be dusted from top to bottom but especially the books.”

Pat nodded feeling like he should curtsey or something.

“Very well. You will start at one tomorrow afternoon for training and if you prove sufficient for the task we will work out a schedule that will fit with your classes. Arrive promptly and dress accordingly.” They had reached the back door again and she handed him an envelope that had been sitting on the hall table. “Good day.”

Outside, Pat opened the envelope and pulled out a couple of pages detailing the house rules as well as what his uniform should consist of. No surprises there, dress pants of any colour, white long-sleeved button up shirt, and loafers. Sweaters, without hoods or printing of any kind, were also acceptable over the white shirt in cooler weather. He was pretty sure he had some stuff that would work, if not he could probably borrow something from his roommate, Shawzy’s parents were always sending him shit like that. He looked at his watch and winced. The tour had taken longer than he had expected; he was going to be late for his lecture on postmodern expressionism if he didn’t hurry.

He drove as fast as he dared through the city and finally found a parking spot on campus just about as far away from the lecture hall as he could get with just under ten minutes left. He grabbed his bag from the passenger’s seat and bolted for the hall. He glanced down at his watch as he neared the hall, he’d be cutting it fine but—

He crashed into someone, sending both of them sprawling onto the sidewalk. He winced as the cement scraped the skin on his arms and hands.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Pat joked when he looked over and saw who had just knocked him over.

“Sorry,” Jonny said helping him up. He gestured to the cell phone in his left hand. “I wasn’t paying attention. Are you hurt?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Pat said brushing himself off. “Just a few scratches.”

“It’s Patrick right?” Jonny said hesitantly.

“You’ve got a good memory,” Pat joked.

“You seem determined to be remembered,” Jonny said dryly. “So um can I buy you a cup of coffee or something?”

“Shit!” Pat swore as the clock that stood in the centre of the small park to his right chimed the hour. “Sorry,” he apologized as Jonny started to backtrack, clearly thinking he had read Patrick wrong. “I’d love to it’s just that I’m late for class, that’s why I was running, and I kind of forgot for a minute but I remember now. Obviously. Rain check?”

“I’m going to be out of town for a couple of days but I could call you?”

“Cool,” Pat said brightly. “I’ve really got to go, talk to you later.” He finished his interrupted rush to the lecture hall and slid unobtrusively into one of the back seats. Twenty minutes later he stopped short in the middle of taking a note as he realized that he hadn’t given Jonny his number.

 

“I can’t believe I did something so stupid,” Patrick lamented the next day. “He must think I’m a complete idiot!”

“I’m sure he doesn’t think that Pat,” Abby said over the hum of her sewing machine. She grinned. “Besides, you’re an artist. He should expect a little social ineptitude.”

“But he doesn’t know I’m an artist! He probably thinks I just didn’t want to go out with him! It was complete chance that I ran into him a second time now I’ll probably never see him again!” He leaned forward across her counter and dropped his head into his hands dramatically.

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Abby scolded.

Patrick jumped with a squawk as something landed on him.

“Your pants are done,” Abby said sweetly.

“Are all fashion design majors so mean?” Patrick asked, picking his freshly hemmed pants off the floor where they had landed after hitting him.

“Of course,” Abby said smoothly. “Now, think about this logically Pat. This guy saw you go into the lecture hall, he could check the syllabus to see that it was an art lecture. And since you ran into him not far from there he was obviously doing something in the area. What’s near the hall?”

“I guess maybe the business annex? He was on my left when I ran into him so…”

“So he’s probably a business student then. All you need to do is find out when the classes run and wait until he comes out.”

“That is brilliant Abby,” Patrick said his spirits lifting. He hugged her quickly. “Thank you so much!”

“Yeah yeah,” Abby said fondly. “You’d better get going, don’t want to be late to work on your first day.”

“Right! Thanks again!” Patrick grabbed his backpack and hurried out of the classroom, headed for the nearest washroom to change.


	3. Chapter 3

Patrick spent the next two weeks looking for Jonny, he was pretty sure he knew the business schedule better than he knew his own now, but with no luck. He was aware he was starting to look pathetic, even without his friends judicious teasing, and had resolved to stop looking.

He was leaving his last class for the day, his arms loaded down with art supplies, when his phone chirped. He struggled to get his phone out of his pocket without dropping anything as he hurried out of the building and down the steps. He swore as the case of oil paints slid and broke open on the steps, the little tubes bouncing everywhere.

“Brilliant Kaner,” he muttered, setting the rest of his stuff on the step and reaching for the closest of the tubes. He tossed them in the case and looked up in surprise as a hand held some of the ones that had bounced further out to him.

“Hi,” Jonny said.

“Hi!” Patrick said scrambling to his feet. “So I guess I just had to do something embarrassing to get you to show up huh?” The pattern was starting to become alarming.

“What?” Jonny asked looking confused.

“Nothing. We should probably move off of the stairs,” he suggested as they started getting dirty looks from some of the other students coming up and down the steps. He collected the broken oil paint case and smiled slightly as Jonny picked up the rest of his stuff and followed him away from the stairs.

“So,” Jonny said. “I was going to bring coffee but then I wasn’t sure how you took yours.”

“Five cream, four sugar,” Patrick answered instantly. “Don’t judge,” he said laughing at the expression on Jonny’s face.

“I don’t think you can really call it coffee by that point,” Jonny pointed out.

“I know a great place near here if you want to continue discussing the proper coffee to cream ratio,” Patrick suggested watching Jonny out of the corner of his eye. “I mean, we do still have an outstanding coffee date to go on.”

Jonny relaxed a little. “I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to go,” he admitted. “When you didn’t give me your number…”

“Dude I’ve been kicking myself about that for the past two weeks! I kept lurking around the business annex hoping I’d run into you!” They reached his station wagon and Patrick opened the back door and started putting his stuff inside.

“Yeah?” Jonny started to smile. “Guess I owe Seabs dinner or something. A friend of mine who gently suggested that I come talk to you one more time,” he explained.

“Well if you don’t owe him I definitely do.” Patrick’s phone chimed again and he remembered why he had dropped the paints in the first place. “Sorry,” he apologized glancing at his phone and choosing to ignore the two texts from Sharp. “So the coffee place isn’t far do you want to walk or drive?” It was such a nice day he hoped Jonny would pick walking.

“Walking sounds good,” Jonny said and they set out.

 

Pat hummed to himself as he dusted the library shelves, still thinking about his coffee with Jonny. He’d been worried that maybe after all the time he’d spent looking for Jonny that the two of them would have nothing in common and would end up staring at each other awkwardly over their coffee cups. Fortunately that hadn’t happened. Jonny had made fun of Patrick’s coffee, he had thought he’d been joking about the amount of cream and sugar he put in it, and Patrick had made fun of him for liking the Jets when everyone knew the Sabres were the best. He had learned that Jonny’s parents had been killed in a car crash years ago so it was just him and his younger brother. Patrick had shared some stories about his parents and sisters back in Buffalo. The only downside was having to leave after an hour so he wouldn’t be late for work, though they had made sure they had each other’s numbers this time.

He finished the last shelf in the section he had been working on and headed for the study. He pushed the door open and stopped short as he heard a feminine voice speaking French inside the room. The only person in the room was a man, mostly turned away from the door as he reached for a binder on the shelf behind him, that Patrick guessed must be the illusive Toews. The other voice was coming from the phone on the fancy desk and Patrick guessed Toews was on a conference call. Mrs. Quinby would kill him if he interrupted Toews’ work so he closed the door as quietly as he could and headed back down the hall. Maybe he’d do the formal sitting room today and the study tomorrow.


End file.
